


hearts and thoughts they fade

by snarkymuch



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: A dash of salt about Steve leaving, Anal Sex, Banter, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Caring Bucky Barnes, Fingering, Getting Together, Hurt Sam Wilson, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Top Sam Wilson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:01:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27439249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkymuch/pseuds/snarkymuch
Summary: A snowstorm, a safe house, and two idiots who can't seem to make the first move. Sam is hurt and Bucky takes care of him. There are feelings and casual touches that finally turn to more. It's finding happiness in what you have. A Getting together fic.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Comments: 12
Kudos: 170





	hearts and thoughts they fade

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Pearl Jam's Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town. 
> 
> This was originally intended to be for an event, but I decided it didn't work for it, so you guys get it now instead.

“Why does every mission with you end with us trudging through some shit hole in the middle of nowhere?” Sam asked, feeling the cold slush seep through his boots. They were only so water-resistant, and when he dressed for the mission, he hadn’t been planning on a three-mile hike in the wet snow of Colorado.

The cold air had long ago turned his cheeks numb and made his nose run, so he was constantly sniffling as they trudged along the winding path to what Bucky swore was an adequate safehouse. With worse weather on the way, and they would need to hunker down somewhere for the night soon. They would probably need to stay for a few days if the way things had been going for them were any predictor.

“S’not my fault it snowed, Wilson. At least I didn’t drop our only phone.”

“Sure, sure. You’re Mr. Perfect, and it’s winter in Colorado. Of course, it was going to snow.” Sam rubbed his frozen hands together and blew on them, trying to gather any warmth he could. “Why doesn’t Hydra ever have bases in the south. What I wouldn’t give to be poolside right now with a nice margarita. Ever had a margarita? Can’t go wrong with one of them on a hot day.”

Bucky turned his head to look at Sam as he rolled his eyes. “Thought you’d be more a Shirley Temple drinker.”

“Fuck you, Barnes. You’re not even cold, are you? Look at you, jacket open, not even shivering even though you’ve got snowflakes in your perfect hair. The shit I put up with. I’m telling ya.”

Bucky snorted. ”Whatever you say, pal.”

Sam shifted an arm around his middle as he felt a painful tug on his abdomen. He hadn’t told Bucky because he didn’t want to worry him, but he hadn’t escaped unscathed. A piece of rebar had caught him in one of the blasts and cut into his right side. It wasn't deep from what he could tell, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t painful or that it didn’t need attention. It had been bleeding sluggishly since it happened, causing a sticky, wet patch near the waistband of his jeans. Thankfully, his jacket covered it.

“Where is this safe house of yours, anyway? Some of us are actively turning into an Otter Pop.”

“What the fuck is an Otter Pop?”

It was Sam’s turn laugh, dry and wheezing from the cold. It quickly turned into a cough that wracked his body, though, nearly making him stumble into a slushy puddle.

Bucky was quick to his aid, gripping his elbow and steadying him while he tried to catch his breath. He was still too cold. His nose was running again, and he wiped it on his sleeve. He was past caring. This mission had turned into a shit show, and he just wanted to get back home, sit in front of his too-big TV, and watch last week’s game he missed. Was that really too much to ask?

Instead, he was out in Bumfuck, Nowhere, with the man he found in equal parts alluring and infuriating, trying not to freeze his balls off. Scratch that. It was so cold he was pretty sure his balls were already trying to climb back inside his body. All in all, things were shit, and he wanted to go home before he did something embarrassing like died in front of Barnes or, even worse, kissed him on those stupidly pouty lips, the thought of which had been on his mind for months. 

“We should try to hurry. I don’t like the sound of that cough,” Bucky said, frowning.

Sam wiped his nose again and nodded. “Sounds good to me. The sooner we can get warm, the better.”

The safe house, thankfully, turned out to be better than Sam had dared to hope. With it being something Bucky kept on roster, he’d expected an unheated hovel at the end of some winding dirt road, so the old white farmhouse that sat in an overgrown clearing was a pleasant surprise. The power lines cutting along the driveway and out to the road’s edge gave promise of hot water, or so he hoped. What he would give for a steaming hot shower. He was chilled to the bone, and if they were going to be holed up there for a few days, it would be nice to have some creature comforts.

Sam followed Bucky up the porch's steps, stopping when Bucky moved a plant pot and pulled a key from underneath. It seemed so ridiculous that he couldn’t contain his snort. “You’re something else, man. Even my ma hides her key better than that.”

“Maybe, but at least I have a place for us to crash that’s better than a snowbank. I don’t think you’d last too long in an igloo.”

“Yeah, yeah, what do you want, a cookie?”

Bucky unlocked the door, and it opened with a whine of protest. Sam followed him inside, shutting the door behind him with one last glance at the snow-covered porch. It was dark inside while Bucky felt around for the light switch, and then the lights flicked on, warming the room in a yellow glow. Looking up, he saw the antique light fixture overhead, a glass dome filled with dead bugs and debris. It wasn’t the cleanest place then.

A shiver passed through Sam, and when he glanced over at Bucky. The man was watching him with his brows pinched and his mouth a tight line.

“What?” Sam wiped a hand over his mouth. “I got something on my face?”

“You don’t look so good.”

“Gee, thanks, Barnes. Same to you,” he said, even though it was a lie. Bucky always looked good. Even after trudging through the sewers, the man could still be a model. 

Bucky’s frown deepened, his lips pursing. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

Sam didn’t know quite what to make of that, so he stashed it away to examine later. 

They might playfully rib each other, but they’d actually become pretty close since all the shit that had happened after Thanos and after Steve fucked off to live the good life. Don’t get him wrong, he was happy for Steve, but the way he did it ... Nah, you don’t do that shit to your friends. 

Bucky might not have ever come out and said it, but Sam knew the shit that went down wasn’t as simple as Steve seemed to make it. Steve might have gotten to live his life, but he didn’t have to watch Bucky retreat into himself and tear apart at the seams. Bucky was a lot better now, he even said he forgave Steve, but that didn’t mean Sam wasn’t still a little salty. But it was Steve’s loss. Him leaving meant Sam got a chance with Bucky. Maybe. Probably. If he could get his shit together.

“We should see if the water’s hot and get you warmed up,” Bucky said, and then broke his gaze away to take the stairs two at a time, disappearing into the dark hall above.

“Yeah, you got this, Wilson,” he murmured to himself as he looked right and then left, peeking into the other rooms. On the wall was a thermostat; it was set at fifty degrees. Yeah, no. Something needed to be done about that.

Crossing his fingers and hoping for the best, he spun the dial on the old device and set it at seventy-five degrees. He was relieved when he heard the furnace hum to life from below him. With a little nod, he glanced over his shoulder and then followed Bucky up the stairs. 

The hallway was dark, but one of the doors was open, casting light across the floor and up the opposite wall. Still shivering, Sam blew into his hands again and rubbed them in front of his face as he walked toward the open door.

He ducked his head around the doorway, angling his body a little. “You in there, Buck?”

There was a sound like a dresser drawer shutting, and then Bucky called back. “I found you some dry clothes. I checked the taps, and the water’s hot.”

Sam stepped into the room. A queen-size bed was against the right wall. On the left of the bed was an open door that looked like a bathroom. Bucky stood by the dresser with an armful of clothes. The man shifted, then held them out to Sam with a frown.

“I think these should fit.”

Sam shivered again, fighting the urge to let his teeth chatter. His fingers burned as they started to thaw, so did his toes. Everything felt wet, even his underwear, which was chafing. The sooner he could change, the better. A hot shower sounded like heaven.

Stepping forward, he took the clothes from Bucky with a nod. “Thanks, man. I’m gonna be in the shower trying to thaw my fine ass out. Don’t wait up. I have no intention of rushing.”

Bucky’s mouth twitched, his eyes sweeping over Sam slowly, and then he nodded. “I’ll be close. If you need anything, holler.”

Sam tried to decipher the strange look on Bucky’s face but came up empty. Shrugging, he slipped into the bathroom and started stripping out of his gear.

Once he was out of his jacket, he got his first look at the damage to his side. Lifting his shirt, he saw a three-inch gash near his hip, about a centimeter deep, not far from where he’d had his appendix out as a kid. He prodded it gently, hissing through his teeth. It needed to be cleaned at minimum, but the shower would take care of that. Hopefully, the bleeding would taper off after a shower. Otherwise, Bucky was bound to notice, and then he’d be at the mercy of Nurse Barnes, a true mother hen. Hovering with a look of constipation and a bowl of soup was the trademark way Bucky showed he cared. 

And Sam was pretty sure that Bucky cared more about him than he let on, or maybe he was just letting his hopes get the best of him. Perhaps he was seeing things that weren’t there. But sometimes he’d catch Bucky looking, and not just a casual glance in his direction, but really looking, dragging his gaze over him, letting it linger in places that could only mean one thing. Because last time Sam checked, you didn’t check out your best friend's ass as he loaded the dishwasher unless you wanted a piece of it. And each time Sam caught Bucky watching him like that, Bucky would quickly avert his eyes, a blush creeping up his neck, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

Yeah, Sam was pretty sure that he was interested and didn’t that do something for him. What he wouldn’t give to see Bucky’s pretty red lips stretched around his cock, eyes tearing up and drool dribbling down his chin. 

He pressed his palm against his hardening cock, trying to will it away. It strained against the zip of his jeans. Rubbing himself through the fabric, he groaned before squeezing his eyes shut. It didn’t feel right. It wasn’t the touch he wanted, and to top things off, his clothes were cold and wet and chafing. Maybe he could rub one out before he went to sleep; that was if this place had more than one bedroom. Sam hoped there was because it would be torture to lay next to Bucky and not touch him. 

Goosebumps chased up his arms and across his chest as he peeled off his layers, then leaned over the cold porcelain tub and turned on the hot water. The shower came to life a second later; the water was a murky orange at first but quickly cleared. Steam rose from the shower, making Sam’s shoulders jerk in a violent shiver.

Stepping into the shower, the water felt like lava when it hit his skin, even though he was pretty sure it wasn’t that hot. He was just that cold. Hanging his head, he let the water beat down on his neck. When he opened his eyes, he saw the pink-tinged water swirling down the drain. He checked his side. It wasn’t bleeding heavily anymore, but the clotted blood was washing away. He turned his body a little to let the water rinse the gash out.

There were no soaps or shampoos in sight, but that was fine. Hot water would do. It just felt nice to be warm.

After he was as clean as he was going to get, he shut the water off and stepped out of the shower. The mirror was fogged over, and he couldn’t see himself, but he knew there were a few bruises on his chest and arms. Everything ached. He couldn’t wait to lie down.

The house hadn’t warmed up much, so the air was still chilled enough to cause his goosebumps to return full force, making him shiver. Drying off quickly, he grabbed the first item of clothing from the pile. It was a long sleeve cotton shirt that would fit Steve before it fit him, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. He yanked it on and then grabbed the gray sweats from the sink, pulling them on as well. They were a few sizes too big, too, but he cinched the waist and tied the string into a knot.

Lifting his shirt and holding it under his chin, he dabbed the gash with the towel, checking it over again. It looked too jagged to stitch, so there wasn’t much to do about it, though it was already looking better. The bleeding had nearly stopped.

Dropping his shirt and tossing the towel to the floor, he turned to the medicine cabinet and checked it for supplies but didn’t find much. There were a few band-aids, but they wouldn’t be any help.

Sighing, he shut the cabinet and headed downstairs to check on Bucky. Maybe if they were lucky, Bucky had found something for them to eat.

By the time he made it to the kitchen, his toes were frozen again, but it wasn’t like he’d had any socks, and he wasn’t putting his wet boots and socks back on. The furnace was still running, and hot air was blowing through the vents. As far as safehouses went, this one wasn’t so bad.

The lights were all on in the kitchen, and Bucky was beside the stove, stirring something in a pot. Any other day, Sam might have cared what it was, but today had been a shit show, and he was starving, so whatever Bucky wrangled up would do. Taking a sniff, it smelled savory, then his eye caught the discarded can on the counter. It was beef stew. Not too bad then.

He crossed the room and leaned a hip against the counter, his arms loosely crossed over his chest. His side still ached, but he was too distracted by Bucky’s ass to pay it too much attention. He was still dressed in his tact gear, but his jacket was off, leaving him in his undershirt. Sam would never stop finding Bucky’s ass attractive. Physically, it was one of Sam’s favorite parts of Bucky, next to his muscular shoulders and his perfect tits.

Bucky shifted his weight to his other leg, and Sam licked his lips as he watched the fabric pull tight over his ass. Sam wanted to reach out and grab it, knead it in his hands. He wanted to spread his cheeks, exposing his puckered little hole. He wanted to lick it, fuck it with his tongue, then blow on it gently just to watch it quiver. He wanted to know what made him come apart, what he felt like from the inside out. He wanted to do so much, and just thinking about it had his cock half hard already.

Tearing his gaze away from Bucky’s ass, he tried to clear his head. He didn’t need to be popping wood in the kitchen before they ate. He had some manners. 

It wasn’t like they weren’t aware of each other in that way, though. He and Bucky had an unspoken agreement that most men in the service seemed to share. From your time in basic onward, you get used to the sounds of the guy next to you jerking off in the night. It’s your job to just roll over and pretend not to hear. He imagined it was the same for Bucky during his time in the army. It was just part of being away from home and in close quarters. Thanks to thin walls and too many missions together, he was pretty sure Bucky had heard him rubbing one out before, and Sam was positive he’d Bucky more than once, too. 

“You listening to anything I said?”

“Huh?”

Bucky’s gaze flicked over him, then he rolled his eyes and pointed to the cabinet behind Sam. “Grab some bowls. Food’s ready.”

Sam turned, getting out two mismatched bowls and walking them over to the table. Bucky followed with forks and the pot of stew. Sam watched as he divided the contents between the bowls, then set the pot on the table with a clunk.

Sam took a seat, grabbing his fork and poking at the stew. “Looks like dog food, but I’ll take it over nothing. It’s hot, and at least it doesn’t smell too bad. I’ve definitely eaten worse.”

“Same. The shit they fed me between missions left a lasting impression. I can even remember the war a little, ya know. Rations weren’t that great. I remember the cigarettes that came with them. I think I remember smoking before. Might just be something I saw in a movie too, though. Some days my mind still plays tricks.”

“That’s gotta be hard, man. You know if you ever need to talk,” he trailed off with a shrug.

Bucky took a bite of stew, eyes on his bowl. “Yeah, I know.”

They ate in silence after that, the only sound their forks scraping against their bowls. Once they were finished, Sam took their dishes to the sink, running a little water over them to rinse some of the mess away before leaving them to deal with later. 

He turned and leaned against the counter, feeling his side ache. What he wouldn’t give for some of the good painkillers. Hell, he’d take some plain old Tylenol about now—anything to take the edge off. 

Bucky got up from the table, rolling his shoulders. His undershirt was a size or two too small, but Sam didn’t mind. It made his shoulders and chest look even more tempting than usual. 

Bucky twisted, cracking his back, and then turned to Sam. A small smile touched his lips, and his mouth opened like he was about to say something, but then his brow furrowed, and he frowned. His eyes were locked on Sam’s right side. 

Sam shifted, glancing down. His eyes widened when he saw the small splash of red on his shirt. His wound must be bleeding again. Sighing, he looked at Bucky and held up his hands in a placating gesture. “It’s nothing. Just a little cut.”

“I should take a look.”

“It’s really no big deal—”

Bucky shut him down with a glare. He pointed to the chair. “Sit. I don’t trust your opinion. I remember Cleveland all too well. You said you were fine then, too, and turned out you had a bullet in your leg.”

Breathing out heavily through his nose, Sam nodded and then walked over to the chair, pulling it out and taking a seat. Bucky grabbed the other chair and dragged it closer, sitting on the edge. He glanced up at Sam, raising a brow, silently asking permission, and Sam rolled his eyes but reached down and lifted his shirt. 

Bucky’s gaze dropped to his side, and if Sam wasn’t paying such close attention, he might have missed the twitch of Bucky’s mouth. Cocking his head, Bucky bent forward for a better look. His hand hovering over the wound.

“This is gonna get infected if we don’t clean this up and cover it. We should try to get out of here tomorrow. I don’t want to wait and see what happens with this.”

Those were all things Sam was already thinking. He knew he needed to get it looked at by a professional sooner rather than later, but Sam’s train of thought was broken when Bucky’s flesh and blood hand touched his thigh, just a little too high to be meaningless. Bucky was still bent, looking at his side, but his hand, his hand was there, so close to where Sam wanted it, and his thumb was rubbing absently back and forth on the inside of his leg. It made his breath hitch, and Bucky glanced up, meeting his gaze. His lashes were so fucking long, and his eyes were gorgeous and damn, could Sam get lost in those stormy grays.

Who knew he was such a romantic, but Bucky did that to him. He could wax lyrical about his chiseled jaw and broad shoulders, his thick thighs, and perfect ass. He could write poems about his resilience and strength, empathy and kindness, and how he could find forgiveness for people Sam would never offer to help again. Bucky deserved every good thing, every kind touch, and gentle kiss. He deserved to be loved, and Sam wanted to be the one to love him. He was in deep, and he knew it. He just hoped his heart didn’t get broken too badly because of all the people Bucky could have. Why would he want to settle for Sam? 

Bucky squeezed his thigh, a little lopsided smile on his face. And for a second, Sam lost his higher functioning. He could only focus on that smile and the firm touch that grounded him and aroused him in equal parts. Licking his dry lips, his eyes held Bucky’s gaze, and he hesitantly smiled back. That seemed to be the permission that Bucky was looking for because then his metal hand touched his other thigh, and his eyes dropped to Sam’s crotch, where the line of his cock was evident in the threadbare sweats. 

It felt good to be so close to what he wanted, but he worried about Bucky, if he was ready, what this might do to their friendship. It was one thing to fantasize about each other, but another to bring those fantasies to life. There was so much that could go wrong.

Sam swallowed, his throat bobbing, and Bucky’s gaze seemed to follow the motion. “Is this—are we—what are we doing, Buck?”

Bucky shrugged. “Maybe I can’t pretend anymore. I’ve been waiting for you to make a move for months.”

“Oh, so you and me, we’re, uh?” Sam flicked his gaze between them.

“If you want. I won’t make a fuss if I’m reading this wrong, but I don’t think I am.” He punctuated his words by sliding his hands up a little higher, making Sam’s breath hitch again. 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s cool, man. You aren’t reading things wrong, not wrong at all, but maybe we should take this upstairs to the bed. See how things play out.”

Bucky’s smirk grew, and then his hand slid up, brushing over Sam’s cock, making it twitch. “If you’re good and let me bandage you up, I’ll let you play however you want.”

Sam’s mouth went a little dry. “Is that so?”

“It is, flyboy. Now get your ass up those stairs and on the bed. I’ll grab some supplies.”

“Supplies?”

Bucky snorted. “For your side, but I guess it wouldn’t hurt to look for some lube, too.”

He sucked in an unsteady breath. “Okay, yeah, I should get upstairs. You look for the lube. I mean the bandages, bandages and lube. You know what? I’ll shut up and meet you up there.” 

Bucky disappeared through the kitchen door, and Sam let out a breath. His heart was still pounding, and he felt a little dizzy. As his brain came back online, he struggled to accept what had just happened. 

Bucky had made the move Sam was too much of a coward to make, and he couldn’t be more grateful.

Smiling, he shook his head and got to his feet. Bucky probably wouldn’t be long, and Sam needed to get upstairs and settle his nerves before Bucky got done. He needed a moment to breathe and make sure he was ready. 

Sam’s side ached a little as he climbed the stairs. When he reached the landing, he heard the pipes creak as someone turned on the water. He wondered if Bucky was finally getting to his shower. Not that Sam minded either way. He’d take Bucky however he could get him.

The bedroom was warm, and the old lamp on the side table cast a yellow light through the room. Sam scrubbed a hand over his face, scratching at his well-trimmed beard. He felt a little giddy and a lot nervous, which was crazy because it wasn’t like he was a virgin, but this was Bucky, and he cared about Bucky, more than he should. 

He wanted whatever they did to be good. Bucky deserved that after all the shit he’d been through. Hell, they both deserved it. 

“Okay, Wilson, you got this. Baby steps,” he coached himself. 

Grabbing the hem of his shirt, he pulled it over his head, tossing it on the wingback chair by the window. His side pulled at the movement, and he grimaced as he checked the wound. It didn’t look any better, but it didn’t look much worse either. The edges of the wound were a little red and puffy, and he knew it could be the first signs of infection setting in. He’d be damned if he let this cock block him, though.

“You’re thinking too hard again,” Bucky’s voice came from behind, and he spun to see him standing in the doorway with a smirk and an armful of supplies, one of which was a jar of petroleum jelly, not the best lube, but it was better than spit. His shirt was the same, but he was wearing a pair of sweats now, and his feet were bare.

Sam pasted on a toothy smile. “Yeah, yeah, maybe you should do something about it then.”

“Maybe I will.” And then Bucky winked, fucking winked, the bastard, and didn’t that make heat pool in Sam’s gut. 

Bucky started into the room, nodding to the bed. “Lay down, so I can get a look at your side.”

Sam licked his lips, nodding once, then turning to sit. He fluffed the pillow and then stretched out on top of the blankets. Any ache from his side was forgotten as Bucky’s eyes raked over him, his hair a little damp and clinging to his forehead. His sweats were a little wet in spots like he’d not taken the time to dry off before getting dressed. 

Bucky sat sideways on the edge of the bed, his thigh against Sam’s leg. He set the supplies down on the other side of Sam. “I need to rinse this out. I ain’t gonna lie. It’ll hurt like a bitch, but I promise to make you feel good after to make up for it.”

Sam glanced down at the supplies and saw a half-full bottle of vodka. He quirked a brow with an incredulous expression. “This isn’t mother Russia, Barnes. There are better things to clean a wound with.”

“It’s all I could find.” He sounded apologetic, putting his hand on Sam’s thigh and smoothing it up and down. The effect was instant. It soothed Sam’s frazzled nerves and served to distract him. 

Sighing, he nodded, letting his eyes fall on Bucky’s face. There were more lines of worry there than Sam liked to see. He wanted to smooth them out. The sooner they dealt with this and moved on, the better. Then they could get to the main event. 

“Just do it.”

“Okay.” Bucky’s mouth twitched downward. “Do you want me to warn you?”

Sam shook his head. “Just make it quick. I know it ain’t gonna feel good. This is really gonna suck, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, sugar.”

“Sugar, huh? That’s--you know what? I don’t mind it coming from you, anyway. It sounds--it sounds kinda gooey but in a good way.”

Bucky picked up a towel and the bottle of vodka, and Sam closed his eyes, clenching his teeth already. 

“Need something to bite on?”

Sam chuckled. “What you offering to put in my mouth? Seriously, I’m fine. Call me sugar a few more times, and I’ll be great.”

He felt the cold metal of Bucky hand touch his side, and he braced himself the best he could. He thought of all the things they could be doing, imagined Bucky sitting on his cock. He tried to ignore the impending pain. Then it happened. He felt the splash of cold for a split second before the searing pain. It cut straight through his gut and spread to his toes. His leg curled up toward his chest, and he started rolling onto his side and pulling himself into a ball. Bucky’s firm grip stopped him, though, holding him in place as he writhed.

Through the rushing in his ears, he heard Bucky murmuring sweet little nothings, comforting things, as he patted the wound dry. Sam eventually relaxed and allowed Bucky to bandage him, throwing an arm over his eyes. 

“Shit, that fucking sucked, man. Like really fucking sucked. Fuck.”

“I found some Tylenol. You should take some.”

“You’re just telling me now?” Sam threw his arm off his face and pushed himself up onto his elbow. He wiggled his fingers in front of Bucky. “Give it up, man. I’m fucking hurting.”

Bucky shook two pills out and gave them to Sam. He swallowed them down dry, then flopped back on the bed, feeling very unsexy. He worried tonight wasn’t happening. 

Bucky dumped the supplies on the chair by the bed and then came back to stand beside the bed. He looked a little lost, and that wouldn’t do at all. Sam shifted over on the bed and then patted the spot next to him. “I only bite if you ask nicely.”

It was such a cheesy line he couldn’t contain his smile, and it seemed to settle something in Bucky, who returned the smile, the tension falling from his shoulders. 

Sam pushed himself up on the bed, so his back was against the headboard. His head tilted to the side as his eyes raked over Bucky, taking in the lines of his neck and chest, the way the undershirt clung to his tits. He really wanted the man, but a part of him knew it wasn’t the best time. They shouldn’t rush into things, and doing something now seemed like it would be, not to mention his side still felt like there was a hot poker in it, and he was a little worried he wouldn’t be able to perform with the pain.

Bucky let out a breath, then sat back down on the bed, turning and laying so his back was against the headboard like Sam. Their shoulders touched, metal pressed to flesh, and it made goosebumps chase across Sam’s skin. 

“So …” Sam said, hyper-aware of Bucky’s presence next to him.

“So,” Bucky repeated, then reached out with his metal hand, lacing his fingers with Sam’s. He gave Bucky’s hand a squeeze, moving his thumb back and forth against the unforgiving metal of Bucky’s hand. 

Sam cleared his throat lightly and looked down at where they were joined. “This is nice.”

“We don’t have to do anything,” Bucky said after a moment. “I don’t want to screw things up between us. It’s not like I do this kind of thing much, anyway.”

He squeezed Bucky’s hand again, then let them settle in the gap between their legs. “I want this--us. I know you said you’ve seen me looking. The idea of us--it’s been on my mind for a while. I don’t want to give up on that before we even get to start.” He looked over at Bucky. “But I want the first time to be good, too. God, do I want to do filthy things to you, I want to take you apart and put you back together, but I can’t do that with this shit on my side. It needs a night. This is a shitty situation. Can we take a rain check? At least on the part where I fuck you until you forget your own name?”

“Yeah, yeah, we can do a rain check. The last thing I want is to hurt you, and I know wounds like that aren’t a walk in the park. I was already starting to think we should wait, see how you feel in the morning. I ain’t going anywhere. If we’ve got to wait, we wait.”

“Good, all right, man. That sounds good, but um, I wouldn’t complain if you kept up with that sweet-talking of yours. You got this Brooklyn drawl that does shit to me, man. It’s sexy as hell.”

“Sexy, huh? Is that so, sugar?” Bucky smirked.

“Yeah, old man, laugh it up. I’m easy, and we both know it. Just don’t stop talking like that.” A yawn split Sam’s face, and he scrubbed a hand over his mouth. “I think you’re right about sleeping, though. I could use a few winks. Didn’t even realize until now how tired I was.”

“Let’s get up, so we can get under the covers. The storm is bad outside. We might not make it out of here tomorrow like I’d hoped.”

Once they were settled in the bed, Bucky turned out the light, and Sam let the darkness wash over him. His side still gnawed at him, but he still thought he could sleep. Thankfully, the house was warmer than it had been, but a chill still clung to the air, enough that a shiver shook Sam’s shoulders before he could pull the dusty comforter to his chin. 

Bucky shifted behind him on the bed, and then his chest was pressing against Sam’s back, and Bucky’s flesh arm was slipping high around his waist to avoid the wound, pulling him back tight to Bucky’s front. 

Sam’s eyes widened in the dark as he felt the bulge of Bucky’s cock against his ass. So that’s how it was. He cleared his throat lightly and adjusted the blanket. For all his bravado, when it came down to it, he wasn’t quite sure how to take the first steps between him and Bucky. He supposed he’d just have to let things play out and not think too hard. 

With Bucky’s body warming him like a furnace, Sam stashed away his worries for tomorrow Sam to deal with and let sleep claim him. 

Sam woke the next morning feeling less achy but still tired, despite having slept pretty well. The chill was gone, and instead, he was sweating. His personal space heater was still pressed up against him, along with Bucky’s very obvious morning wood, which, as he took stock of himself, he realized he was in the same boat, his dick heavy against his stomach. 

Bucky’s arm was still around him, and his thumb was rubbing back and forth against his ribs, so he was awake and knew that his dick was nearly wedged between Sam’s ass cheeks. Right. That’s fine. He could keep his cool. _Breathe, Wilson._

“Good morning,” Bucky’s voice was rough from sleep, and it melted Sam’s willpower, making it hard not to grind back into Bucky’s cock. Sam didn’t even usually bottom, but he would for Bucky if that’s what he wanted. He’d take the man anyway he could have him. 

Sam cleared his throat, licking his lips. “It’s something, just not sure how good it is yet.”

When he shifted on the bed, it made Bucky’s cock rub against him, and the sensation went straight to his dick, turning his morning wood into something more pronounced. Bucky tightened his hold on him, and then he felt the feather-light brush of lips and warm breath on the back of his neck. Sam pressed his ass back into Bucky and was rewarded with a nip of teeth at the join of his shoulder and neck. 

Sam let out a shaky breath and then wriggled out from under Bucky and turned onto his back; Bucky propped himself up on an elbow and laid his other arm on Sam’s hip. Bucky’s fingertips brushed over the bandage, and he asked, “Feeling any better?”

“Mm, it’s not so bad now. I can barely feel it.”

Bucky hummed and then dragged his fingers up Sam’s stomach slowly, stopping just below his nipple. Bucky met his gaze, raising a brow as if seeking permission.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s--I can get on board with that.” Sam considered for a moment, then tried to wet his lips. God was his mouth dry. His nerves were getting to him. Bucky’s thumb slid over his nipple, and it made his hips jerk upward.

Bucky chuckled, doubling down and pinching it between his fingers, sending a jolt through him straight to his dick.

“Yeah, you can keep doing that. Is it okay if I …” Then he let his fingers ghost over the Bucky’s belly, then sliding under the hem of his shirt, sliding it up a little. He had a soft trail of dark hair leading into pants. He dragged his fingers over it, letting it tickle his fingers. 

“I think you can tell what I think,” Bucky breathed, his hips lifting ever so slightly as Sam’s fingers dipped into the edge of his pants, following the line of hair. Bucky twitched in his pants. It felt good knowing he was just as turned on as he was. 

Bucky’s breath stuttered when he slid his hand lower, sliding over the thatch of hair and wrapping his fingers around Bucky’s thick cock. It felt hot in hand, just like the rest of Bucky always seemed to be. The skin was soft, and the head was already damp with pre-come. Bucky gasped at the touch, his hips jumping, and Sam smirked as he tightened his grip, swiping his thumb over the head, smearing the pre-come over it. 

“Jesus Christ.” Bucky hissed through his teeth, and Sam gave his cock a lazy stroke, a little twist on the way up, which made Bucky whimper. 

Sam had always imagined Bucky as a vocal lover, and he was happy to be proven right. He couldn’t wait to hear all the sounds he could make.

Sam’s cock ached, straining against the fabric of his pants. Using his free hand, he palmed it over his sweats. Bucky kept up his steady attention on Sam’s tits, leaning down to mouth at his one closest to him while his hand kneaded the other, just on the edge of pain. Bucky nipped the little bud with his teeth, drawing noises from Sam that he wouldn’t admit to making later.

The wound on his side prevented him from rolling toward Bucky, so he settled with Bucky leaning over him. His presence was consuming, wrapping around him, and making him feel safe in a way he hadn’t before. Nothing could have prepared himself for how amazing it felt to touch Bucky, to be touched in return by him. 

So consumed with what Bucky was doing to him, Sam’s hand had stilled in Bucky’s pants, but he was brought back to the moment when Bucky made a needy whine and rolled his hips. 

“Sorry, man, I got you,” Sam breathed.

Bucky’s breath ghosted over Sam’s abused nipple. It sent a shiver through him. 

“You doing okay, sugar?”

“More than okay. Fucking stellar, man.”

Bucky hummed as he suckled on Sam’s tit. It made his toes curl, warmth spreading through him. He squeezed his own cock through his sweats. It wasn’t enough, though. The friction of his hand tugging on his dick barely took the edge off. There was so way he would survive without finding some release. 

Bucky lifted his head, breath ghosting over his abused nipple. “What would you say to me stripping you down and using my mouth on something else instead?”

Sam swallowed, gripping his own cock a little harder, his other hand still holding Bucky, thumb rubbing back and forth over the head of his dick. Both of their cocks were drooling pre-come. 

“Yeah, yes, definitely approve of that idea.”

Bucky smirked and then leaned down, meeting Sam’s gaze, before tilting his head and tentatively pressing his lips to Sam’s. Sam parted his lips and let Bucky’s tongue sweep inside. Bucky’s tongue was hot and wet, tangling with his own. On instinct, he reached up and threaded his fingers in Bucky’s hair, pulling him down harder, and thrusting his own tongue into Bucky’s mouth. Sam explored every part of Bucky’s mouth, from his tongue to his teeth. Bucky sucked on Sam’s tongue, making him whimper into the kiss, and Bucky’s fingers dug into Sam’s jaw, where he gripped him.

Then too soon, Bucky released him, resting his forehead against Sam’s for a moment as he caught his breath. Bucky lifted his head, looking down at him with wet, kiss-bitten lips. His eyes looked a little sad.

“What are we doing?” Bucky said, voice rough. “Should we really be doing this?”

“Maybe not, but I won’t have any regrets. I’ve wanted you for a long time, and I don’t just want you here and now, either. I want you in the mornings, too, even before your grumpy ass gets a coffee. I want you when you're being a prickling asshole, and I want you when that shit in your head gets to be too much, especially then. I’m not going to leave you, Barnes. You’re stuck with me for the long haul, even if we stop right now.” 

Bucky’s expression did a few complicated things, switching between a frown and what looked like frustration, and then he looked away. Sam thought he might have lost him, that this was it, but then Bucky’s eyes softened, and he looked down at Sam, his expression still a little strained. 

“You mean that? Sometimes people change what they want.”

Sam reached up and cupped Bucky’s cheek. It felt rough, his five o’clock shadow having filled in overnight. Sam shook his head, waiting until Bucky looked into his eyes before speaking, “I know Steve hurt you, but I’m not him. I ain’t going anywhere, not until you kick my ass out the door.”

Bucky lowered his mouth back to Sam’s and kissed him slowly, softer than the first time. Sam let him take what he needed, let him comfort himself with Sam’s taste and touch. Their mouths worked together, and Bucky’s softening cock began to harden again in Sam’s hand.

* * *

Bucky never thought he would find happiness after losing Steve, but this was pretty close to nirvana. He had Sam beside, touching him, caressing him, and he didn’t feel like he deserved any of it, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t selfish enough to enjoy it while it lasted. 

In the months after Steve left, Bucky hadn’t thought he would ever find a way out of his own head. Steve leaving had created a hole in his chest that he didn’t think could be filled, but Sam had stayed by his side, making him laugh, keeping company, and slowly, he grew feelings for the man. 

At first, he hadn’t thought Sam returned his feelings, he thought Sam didn’t swing that way, but then he caught him checking out his ass after a mission in Jersey, and a little spark of hope ignited in his chest. He watched Sam out of the corner of his eye after that, and the more he saw him looking with hungry eyes, the more Bucky teased him. A few times, he even went as far as to jerk himself off just loud enough for Sam to hear, silently hoping that the other man might take the hint and come to his bed. He never did, though, but that was fine because they were here now. 

Sam tightened his grip on Bucky’s cock just a little, then with a twist of his wrist, he slid it up and down again, his thumb digging into the slit at the top, sending a jolt through him, bordering on the edge of too much. It had him coming apart at the seams already. He didn’t know if he could last, which would be a shame. He wasn’t ready for it to end just yet. 

He moaned into the kiss, and that spurred Sam on more, his hand working faster over Bucky’s cock. Knowing that if they didn’t slow down soon, it would be over, he pulled back from the kiss, panting. He slid his hand down and gripped Sam’s wrist and stilled his hand.

Sam looked at him with concern. “You okay? Too much?”

Bucky huffed a breathy laugh, shaking his head a little. “I’m fine, just need to slow down, or this will be over before it starts. It’s um--it’s been a while since I’ve been with someone.”

A smile spread over Sam’s face, and he swiped his thumb over the head of Bucky’s cock. “Oh yeah?”

Bucky scowled playfully, his cock twitching in Sam’s hold. “How are we going to do this?”

Sam’s brow pinched, and he tilted his head. His eyes swept over Bucky’s face, and his hand kept a firm hold on his cock. “I want to make you feel good. However that may be.”

“Yeah?”

Sam hummed. “I’d really like to watch you open yourself up for me. Prop that ass up a pillow and spread those legs, watch you work those thick fingers into that tight hole of yours. Get yourself nice and loose.”

Bucky sucked in a breath. It had been a while since he fingered himself, not since before Thanos, back when there was something between him and Steve. The idea of putting on a show for Sam, making himself vulnerable and laid bare for him to see, sent a thrill through him. He nodded quickly, pulling Sam’s hand off his cock and sitting up. He stood, peeling away his clothes until he was completely exposed. 

Sam’s pupils widened, and he licked his lips, gripping his own pants and sliding them off and kicking them onto the floor. He sat up, too, crawling down the mattress on his knees and making room in the center of the bed. He snagged a pillow and patted the center of the mattress. 

Bucky’s cocked bobbed against his stomach at the sight of Sam, kneeling on the bed with his cock hard and dripping. Sam was slowly jerking himself, a salacious smile on his face. 

This was better than any of his fantasies. He’d seen Sam naked before, but never like this. This was something else, this was something you never wanted to forget. The man was a work of art. His body was that of a soldier, fit and muscular, but not overly so. His chest was nearly smooth except for a smattering of hair. His abs were defined, and there was dark hair on his stomach that led in a trail down to his cock, which was long and thick and little curved. It would hit all the right spots.

Bucky had to squeeze the base of his cock to get himself back in control. Licking his lips, stroked himself once for good measure, then climbed onto the bed on knees, turning and laying with his back to the headboard, adjusting a pillow to fit behind him. Sam grinned, then crawled forward on his knees, pillow in hand. Winking, Sam tapped Bucky’s thigh with the back of his hand. Bucky took the hint and lifted his hips so Sam could stick the pillow under him. 

“You look gorgeous like this, all laid out for me.”

“And I thought I was the sweet talker,” Bucky breathed. 

Sam rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Just spread ‘em, Barnes. I want to see all of you. Show me how good you can be. I bet you can be real good, a sweet thing like you.”

Bucky adjusted his feet and let his legs fall open.

“Which hand do you like better for this?" Sam asked, eyes raking over him. "Can you use the metal hand?”

“Got a kink I don’t know about, Wilson?”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me. Now answer the question. Can you use the left? I’d like to see that.”

Bucky tried to swallow, his mouth dry. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Good boy. Spread your legs a little more.” And Bucky did. “You’re a sweet thing, aren’t you. People think you’re so tough, but really, you’re just aching to be told what a good boy you are, what a good job you do.” 

And Sam was right. The praise made him feel good in ways he'd forgotten how.

Sam moved between his legs, his hands on Bucky’s knees. Sliding his hands down, he traced his fingertips over Bucky’s inner thigh and down to his balls. Sam gave them a gentle tug, weighing them in his hand before rolling his balls once between his fingers and then dipping lower. 

Bucky sucked in a breath, his whole body a live wire. Sam’s touch was lighting every nerve on fire, making warmth pool in his gut. Then Sam’s hands grabbed his ass cheeks and spread them, and he licked his lips. Bucky felt so exposed with Sam intently staring at such a vulnerable and private place, but he loved every second of it. 

Sam looked up from Bucky’s hole, meeting his gaze. His eyes were darker than usual, hungry, and a little feral. “Reach down here. I’ll hold you open. I don’t want to miss a second of this. Where’s the lube?”

Bucky let out a breathy laugh. “Lube? Shit. I think it’s on the chair.”

Sam nodded and then hopped off the bed, rooting around in the pile of supplies until Bucky heard him say, “Ah-ha! Here it is.” Then he was climbing back into position. 

Sam opened the container, and then he passed it to Bucky. Bucky made quick work of coating his metal fingers. He hadn’t used his metal hand for fingering himself before. Steve had always gotten this hurt expression when his metal hand was involved. It wasn’t that Steve didn’t accept him, but Bucky thought he couldn’t separate it from his time in Hydra, even after he got a new arm. Steve seemed to pity him, and that was always a mood killer. Bucky just got used to not using his arm much during sex, so it was a shock that Sam didn’t just not mind it; he actively wanted it.

Sam spread his cheeks again, and Bucky curled forward just a little so he could reach around his leg. He didn’t have as much sensation with his metal hand, but he could still feel enough. He knew his fingers were wet with lube, and when he touched his entrance, he could feel the heat radiating off himself, the soft give of the flesh beneath his finger. Pressing gently, he bit his lip as he waited for his finger to break the tight ring of muscle. It only took a second, and his finger slipped in, drawing a throaty noise from Sam. 

“Yeah, look at you, that’s so pretty, baby. You’re so good. Work it in a little deeper. You can take more, can’t you, baby? I bet it feels so good. You’ve waited for this. Such a good boy.”

Before he could stop himself, he whimpered at Sam’s words, and doing like he asked, he worked his finger deeper. Thanks to the serum, he was always virgin tight, so just his finger burned pleasantly. 

After working in the first finger for a moment, Sam asked him to add another, so he did. His metal fingers felt bigger than those on his flesh hand, even though he knew they were the same size. It might have been the way the metal didn’t give. They weren’t soft. They were firm and unrelenting. 

The second finger increased the burn, but it was a good feeling. Bucky couldn’t wait to have his fingers replaced by Sam’s cock. His breath hitched when his finger caught his rim as he thought what it would be like to have Sam inside him. 

“That’s a good boy.” Sam kept up the constant praise, his eyes dark as he watched Bucky’s fingers stretching out his hole. It surprised Bucky just how much he liked the sweet things Sam said. 

Sam hummed in appreciation of what he was seeing, then he let go of Bucky’s cheek to slide his fingers down to where Bucky’s were stretching his rim tight. He teased the outside of his hole for a second, maybe gathering some of the excess lube, then Sam’s finger was working into him, alongside Bucky’s. The stretch made Bucky whimper, and his eyes closed as he panted. He arched his back, trying to work them deeper. It wasn’t enough, though. He was greedy, and he knew it, but he wanted Sam. He couldn’t get enough of his touch. 

“Do you need another first?” Sam asked, eyes fixed on where their fingers were stretching him. 

He was tight but not that tight. Three fingers were enough. Besides, he wanted to feel it. The burn, the little edge of pain, it felt good to him. It would be something to remember. 

Bucky blinked, licking his lips. “I’m good. I’m ready. Please.”

Sam smiled, just a slight lift of his lips. “Okay, baby. I’ll take care of you. Let me get the lube.”

Sam withdrew his finger from Bucky, and Bucky immediately felt empty, and he slipped his own fingers out, too. His hole clenched around nothing, and he wiped the lube from his fingers on the bed. It wasn’t like the quilt wasn’t already dirty. 

Reaching beside Bucky, Sam grabbed the lube and started coating his dick, then he pushed Bucky’s legs back and leaned over him. Bucky took the hint and grabbed himself behind the knees and pulled them back towards his chest, making it easier on Sam. The only sound in the room was their breathing as Sam lined himself, and then Bucky felt the warm, blunt head of Sam’s cock pushing against him. Bucky sucked in a breath when he finally breached him, and he panted, trying to catch his breath as the burn faded away a little. 

Sam didn’t push in more. He just waited, stroking the back of Bucky’s thighs. He was shaking a little, though. They both were. 

“Can I—?” 

“Yeah, yes, please. Please move.”

“Okay,” Sam breathed, and then he slid in deeper, making the breath leave Bucky’s lungs. Bucky dug his fingers into the back of his legs as he held on for dear life. It was almost too much and yet not enough at the same time. 

Finally, Sam bottomed out, and he bent down to press a kiss to Bucky’s lips. 

“Hey there, sweet thing, how’s this?”

“Good, but it would be better if you fucked me like you meant it.”

Sam laughed, nipping at his lip. “Okay, I got you.”

And Sam did. He pulled out and drove himself back in with a grunt. Then he readjusted his hold on Bucky, putting one of Bucky’s legs over his shoulder so he could get deeper, and then his dick hit just the right spot, and Bucky saw stars. Bucky reached up and grabbed at Sam’s arm, needing to ground himself as Sam pounded into him, hitting that magical spot over and over like he knew Bucky inside and out. 

Bucky was getting close ridiculously fast, his balls drawing up tight, and he thought from the increasing speed of Sam’s thrusts that he wasn’t far behind. This was a culmination of so much finally getting a chance to be expressed and released. They needed this more than they needed air. 

Bucky let go of Sam’s arm to wrap a hand around his cock, but Sam’s eyes caught the movement, and he shook his head, licking his lips. “From my cock. I want you to come from just me.”

Bucky didn’t want to let him down, but he wasn’t sure he could. He whined in his throat and then grabbed onto Sam’s arm again. Sam leaned down and kissed him, and the press of their bodies together gave him just the friction he needed. He moaned into the kiss while Sam kept pounding into him. His hips protested from his legs being pushed back, and they were both sweating, and it was not enough and too much at the same time. Everything built to a teetering edge, and then one last brush against his prostate, and he was coming between them.

Sam adjusted his hold on Bucky and redoubled his efforts, chasing his own release. A few thrusts later, he found it, his hips stuttering to a stop with his dick buried deep in Bucky. He sagged against Bucky, letting Bucky’s leg fall from his shoulder. Then he gently extracted himself and crawled over to lay next to Bucky. They both laid there, panting, and not looking at each other. 

“So,” Sam started then glanced over at him, a crooked smile on his face. “Good, right?”

Bucky huffed a laugh, shaking his head a little. “I think the evidence of that is all over me.”

“You look good like this. We should do this again.”

Bucky hummed. “I can probably pencil you in.”

“You’re such a shit. See if I talk sweet again.”

Bucky laughed. “Come here and give me a kiss.”

“That,” Sam said, turning to face Bucky. “That is something I can do.”

Neither of them were ready to go again, but they enjoyed lazily kissing until Bucky’s stomach rumbled, making Sam chuckle against his lips. 

“We should probably eat,” Sam said, tweaking Bucky’s nipple once just to make him jump. 

Bucky swatted his hand away and then pushed himself up onto his elbows, giving Sam another peck on the lips. He could kiss the man all day and never get bored, but Sam had a point. They’d not eaten much in the last two days, and they had a hike ahead of them to get back to civilization, which they needed to do soon. That reminded Bucky of something, and he turned to look at the bandage on Sam’s side. On the gauze was a small spot of blood that wasn’t there before, and Bucky’s stomach did something funny as he realized that he’d probably aggravated the wound during sex. He shouldn’t have let Sam be on top. 

Growling, Bucky pushed Sam to lay flat on his back and sat up beside him. He crawled over him and went to the chair to get the supplies. He came back to the bed and sat on the edge much like he had the night before and set the gauze and tape beside Sam. With gentle fingers, he peeled back the tape and lifted off the gauze. The wound looked angry, red, and the edges were swollen. It was oozing a mixture of blood, and something he hoped wasn’t pus. 

He glanced over his shoulder, looking out the window. It was snowing still. The only thing he could see through the curtains was white. If their phone was working, he could call for an extraction, but last he checked, it wasn’t, so it looked like they were going to have to wait the storm out and hope Sam’s wound didn’t get worse. 

“How did you even get hard with something like this on your side?”

Sam raised his brows. “Have you seen your ass? I get a chance to finally tap that. I wasn’t passing it up.”

Bucky felt a blush spread over him, and he tried to scowl, but it didn’t seem to work as it made Sam laugh. “Whatever, Wilson. I should wash this thing out again, but I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Just do it. I’ll lie back and think of fucking you.” Sam smiled and winked. 

Bucky nodded and then got up to grab the bottle of vodka, hesitated, and went to the bathroom to get a towel. Holding the towel next to the wound, Bucky glanced once at Sam’s face and then uncapped the bottle and poured it on. Just like the night before, Sam cried out and curled into himself. Bucky shushed him, dabbing at the gash with the towel.

“There, it’s over. Worst part is over. Just breathe, sugar.”

“Hearing you call me, sugar. Damn, I'll never get tired of that,” Sam said, breathing heavily as he started to relax back on the bed. “Jesus, that shit hurt.”

“I’ve just got to bandage it, then we should clean up and get dressed. I got your jizz leaking out of my ass right now, and it’s gross,” Bucky grumbled, making Sam bark a laugh. 

“I take back what I said about you being a sweet talker. I like the idea of my come in you, though, leaving my mark.”

“Mmhm, well, you’ve definitely left that. I’ll be in the shower if you need me. You should clean up and get dressed. We both need to eat and come up with a plan.”

“I’ve got a few plans,” Sam said, waggling his eyebrows.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I’ll be in the shower.”

Turning the water to hot, Bucky stepped under the spray, and then a moment later, the shower curtain moved, and he felt arms curl around him from behind. He leaned back into the touch, threading his fingers with Sam’s. 

“So, round two in the shower?” Sam rested his chin on Bucky’s shoulder. 

Bucky lifted their joined hands and kissed Sam’s knuckles. “Not while there’s a hole in your gut. How about we clean up, and then I cook some breakfast?”

“I could think of a few things I’d like.”

Bucky laughed, drawing Sam’s arm tighter around him. “I’ll take you up on that once we get back to civilization.” Bucky turned in Sam’s arms, resting his hands on Sam’s hips. “We should get clean. I found some soap in the cupboard. Let me take care of you.”

A smile ghosted over Sam’s lips. “You know, I never thought we’d get here.”

“Me either, but I’m glad we did. As far as I see it, you’re mine now. I ain’t letting you go.”

Sam smiled, leaning in and nipping at Bucky’s lip. “That’s good because I wasn’t leaving.”

Maybe things weren’t perfect, and maybe they never would be, but they were better than they had been in a long time. Being with Sam was like clicking the last piece of a puzzle into place, a piece he didn’t even know he was missing. The only thing that mattered at that moment was him and Sam. Everything else melted away. For the first time in a long time, Steve wasn’t even a passing thought. 

Bucky tugged Sam in closer and kissed him, a dirty, filthy thing that had all his emotions wrapped up in it. They weren’t perfect, but they’d be okay. They had each other. 

**Author's Note:**

> Well? Please let me know what you think. I'm really insecure about posting smut.  
> You can find me on tumblr [here](https://snarky-drabbles.tumblr.com/)


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